Uncle Bashir's Sacrifice

 
Uncle Bashir. The most cantankerous and harsh man in the village. Everyone in the neighborhood calls him "Stone Uncle." There isn't a soul in the entire area with whom Uncle hasn't had some quarrel.

Since birth, no one has ever seen Uncle Bashir laugh, nor has anyone seen him cry. The day his mother died, while all the neighbors came and wailed, Uncle Bashir sat in a corner of the courtyard, drawing on his tobacco roll with perfect composure, blowing smoke and gazing at the sky. After a while, he ate a bit of puffed rice and two biscuits, adjusted his lungi, and went off to dig the grave with the others.

Uncle Bashir had two sisters as family. They were married. Uncle himself had married once upon a time. In the very first year, his wife died along with the baby during childbirth. After that, despite everyone's efforts, no one could get Uncle Bashir to marry again.

Uncle makes his living plowing fields. His only possession is a single cow, black and white in color. Three-quarters of Uncle Bashir's day is spent with that cow. Sometimes Uncle Bashir even gets up at midnight to stroke the cow's back and shoo away mosquitoes and flies. It's his most beloved cow. Just hearing Uncle Bashir clear his throat, the cow understands and stands up, lowing softly. Then the two embrace each other and rumble contentedly. In the evenings, Uncle Bashir can often be seen with his head resting on the cow's back, the two of them peacefully snoring together.

Every year during Qurbani, Uncle Bashir takes the cow to sell. But every year, drawing on his tobacco roll, he brings it back unsold. This way, for six consecutive years, Uncle Bashir took the cow to the Qurbani market but never sold it. Even when money was placed in his hands, he would return the money and come back home with the cow.

Jasim Mia from the neighboring house. He earns quite well. This year, seeing Uncle Bashir's fat, healthy cow, he felt quite covetous. He wanted to buy it at double the price. This year Uncle Bashir desperately needed money too. Without thinking much, he sold his beloved cow to Jasim Mia.

Since the sale, Uncle Bashir goes to Jasim Mia's house every day to feed the cow—the cow won't eat from anyone else's hand but Uncle Bashir's. Sometimes while feeding it, Uncle even falls asleep at night alongside the cow.

As soon as the cow sees Uncle Bashir coming, it raises its tail and ears and rushes toward Uncle as far as it can go. It dances excitedly. When he comes close, it licks Uncle Bashir's entire face and body with its tongue. If Uncle Bashir is even a little late, the cow starts bellowing loudly.

The man who is hard as stone, with whom not even the birds get along—for this stone of a man, a dumb animal waits restlessly. The man who doesn't even visit anyone's deathbed can't spend a single day without seeing a cow's face. Such deep love must cause infinite pain—that's only natural.

From the night before Qurbani, Uncle Bashir had been holding the cow close. He didn't sleep all night. Embracing his beloved cow, he kissed it repeatedly all over its face and body.

Everyone assumed that Bashir would suddenly say, "I won't sell the cow. Here, take your money back." Indeed, Jasim Mia had been reminding him repeatedly, "I will never return the cow, Bashir... no matter what you do!"

On the day of Qurbani, when the rope was being untied to take the cow for sacrifice, Uncle Bashir suddenly grabbed Jasim Mia's hand, pulled out money from the fold of his lungi, pressed it into his palm, and said, "I won't sell the cow, brother! Give me back my cow, I'll leave. This innocent one is all I have, I can't live without it, brother! It's my child!" Saying this, he began sobbing uncontrollably and sat down at Jasim Mia's feet.

Everyone watched in amazement—the man who had never bowed before anyone, who had never even brushed against another person, this harsh man was now sitting there holding someone's feet... and for a cow!

The more the cow's legs were being tied, the more Uncle Bashir's wailing increased, and the more desperately the cow tried to rush toward Uncle Bashir. Just as a human child drowning in a pond raises both hands and calls frantically for his father, the cow too kept staring at Uncle Bashir with tearful, loving eyes... as if those water-filled eyes were screaming, "Father, oh father, save me, take me close...!"

Uncle Bashir keeps crying helplessly while looking at the cow with powerless eyes. Now there's nothing more he can do except watch his beloved treasure disappear before his eyes!

That was the first time everyone saw Uncle Bashir weep bitterly. That was the first time everyone realized that Uncle Bashir wasn't stone—he too had a heart as soft as flowing water, which perhaps he had never shown to anyone.

Perhaps no one had ever gotten as close to him as that beloved cow had. Perhaps he had never loved anyone as much as he had loved that innocent creature. When a person truly loves someone, seeing them disappear before his eyes, he can no longer remain steady—then tears burst from his chest like a flood.

Many years have passed since that day. Whether God accepted Uncle Bashir's such great sacrifice is unknown. But even today, at midnight, Uncle Bashir's heartbroken wailing floats from the cowshed. Even today, sometimes suddenly in broad daylight, Uncle Bashir can be seen hanging his head and wiping his eyes.

How strange a thing this love is—it makes even stone weep! Years pass, yet love clings stubbornly to the heart's walls like the portrait of a dead mother.